


Yarrow

by Zombbean



Category: FNAF, Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Angst, Death, Emotional Healing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I needed to write something to get my feelings out about a situation, Sad, broken au, zombbean broken au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 06:04:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14230932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombbean/pseuds/Zombbean
Summary: It was cold. That’s the only thought that ran through Mike’s head as he sat in front of the freshly dug grave before him. Despite the gentle warmth of the sun, and the slow breeze blowing restless leaves around him, he felt so very cold.





	Yarrow

**Author's Note:**

> [This is not canon to my Broken AU Universe, I just needed to write something to vent out my negative feelings about what’s going on with my grandma (who raised me like a mother) right now.]

It was cold. That’s the only thought that ran through Mike’s head as he sat in front of the freshly dug grave before him. Despite the gentle warmth of the sun, and the slow breeze blowing restless leaves around him, he felt so very cold.

Still dressed in his black suit, and tie, he reached across the olive grass and placed a hand upon the freshly churned dirt, his hand slightly shaking. Fingers felt for some indication that it was a dream, that he’d wake up at any moment and everything would be alright- that it was all a dream and that he’d laugh it off for being so stupid later. But that laughter never came. That wake up call to fresh pancakes, and orange juice never stirred his nostrils.

Instead, just the cold dirt lay beneath his fingers, and with each movement, the man only succeeded in dirtying his white undershirt more, and more.

Steely eyes glanced over the headstone, one had been there a few years now, and while it stung the feeling had died down over time. The name beside it however, was newly carved and decorated with fresh flowers and trinkets from a mere few hours before.

His hand rose from the dirt, to trace along the lettering, ‘Delilah Schmidt’. The name of his mother, etched in an obsidian stone to forevermark her death for the future people to pass and ignore. 

But she would never leave his mind. Thoughts of a younger self sitting in a hospital bed, bandages wrapped around his small skull, his mother reading to him while he laid in pain… Memories of her giving kisses to his temple and he’d get flustered and embarrassed- he now regretted. Getting a hug as he left for work each night, wanting to do something more than live off his parents money- to make something of himself- and she supported his decisions at every turn.

But then his memories faded into darker ones, ones of recent months as he grew to know that something was off- something was wrong.

His mother’s already thin frame, began to grow thinner, her hair began to thin and lose its luster. Bright eyes that once shone such strong will and intellect, faded and became weak and frail. 

His father was a doctor, he would have seen the signs earlier. But his father had been gone a few years, and so Mike had waited in worried silence, biding time he didn’t have. 

When he came home from his shift at Freddy’s to find his mother on the floor, he rushed her to the hospital, waiting for answers. Waiting to find out something, anything! It was only an hour, but it felt like a whole fucking month at the pizzeria. He would have preferred the latter-

When the news of his mother’s sudden frailty was revealed to him? He broke. Nothing came close to the pain he felt in his chest at that moment- not the bite, and not the torture as a night guard. It felt like his insides were being ripped and torn to pieces, and a machine had ripped his heart and shattered it into fragments.

“No… you… this joke isn’t funny doc,” Mike denied the results.

“I’m sorry Mike, but… it’s terminal- your mother’s already being put on oxygen and other medications to slow it, maybe give her a bit more time, but there’s nothing more we can do… Adenocarcinoma… it’s agressive,” the doctor explained.

But Mike would have none of it, “You fix her damnit! You’re a doctor! My dad would have fixed her!”

The sad look on the doctor’s face as he shook his head was one of pity. He didn’t enjoy telling loved ones just as much as they didn’t enjoy hearing them.

Mike’s eyes began to water, falling to his knees as he grabbed the doctor’s pant leg, “Please… please doc… I-I’ll do anything… money’s not a problem, I’ll figure something out! Please, please not my mom… anything but my mom… take me instead… just fuck… please not her…”

The doctor looked at his clipboard, and frowned, “I’m sorry Mike… there’s really nothing we can do,”

Mike was silent as his hand fell from the other, silent tears flooding his eyes and onto the tile of the hospital floor. He felt empty inside. Nothing felt warm, just an icy grip on his chest that wouldn’t let go.

The following months felt so short.

Mike would go to see his mother in the hospital, and she would greet him with smiles, and soft words. She would tell him how handsome he looked, and asked about how he and his girlfriend were doing- who was one of the nurses in charge of taking care of her.

“She’ll take good care of you Mikey… you found yourself a lovely woman,” she laughed, before another slew of coughs rendered her unable to speak for several moments.

“Mom, you’re gonna be okay, everything’s gonna be okay… y-you’ll see! We’re gonna blow this shitty hospital as soon as you’re better, and we’re gonna get some of that weird sobet shit you like so much!” Mike felt his stomach wrench, there was no way his mom was actually dying like this… right?

The next weeks following got worse and worse… and in the final days she couldn’t speak at all.

Mike sat beside his mother, her hand in his, as he whispered softly, his voice breaking every few words, “Hey… mom… it’s me… it’s you baby boy… it’s Mikey…” he gulped, trying to stay strong for his mother, who he wasn’t even sure could hear him.

There was an eerie silence as the sound of the monitor echoed like a bell in his skull. He wished time would stand still.

“I… I heard what the doctor’s said… that… it’s kinda a miracle you’ve held on so long right? Heh… you…. Were always a really strong gal,” he smiled, letting his eyes rest on her before the smile fell again.

With a shaky breath he wiped his eyes with his free hand, before looking at the clock. It was ten in the morning, and he had to work that night, but he refused to leave her side.

Biting his lip, he held back another sob, before opening his eyes and looking at his mother struggling to breath, “I… You’re holding out for me… aren’t you? You… you’re in so much pain… I…”

Mike gave her hand a small squeeze, and she managed to give a tiny one in return.

She could hear him.

Mike’s head snapped up, to see the weak woman’s eyes looking at him, a small smile crossing her lips. Mike could hardly believe it.

But he was no fool. He knew that… she was suffering…

Holding her hand to his lips, he pressed it tightly to his mouth, giving her knuckles a kiss, and shutting his eyes tightly. He could feel his lips, and hands tremble- but still he spoke, “I’ll be okay… I love you mom… you can rest, I’ll be okay,”

A few moments passed- as if she was waiting for a sign- and within the time span, the monitor flatlined. She was gone.

As doctors and nurses rushed in to check their patient, mikey just held her hand to his forehead and sobbed. Pulling the man away from his mother like a small child, he let out a pained wail- body shaking as he gripped his skull.

“What’s her status doctor?” he heard a nurse.

“She’s a DNR, there’s nothing else we can do- she’s gone,” he heard the other reply.

That was it… she was gone.

Shaking the memory from his head, he let his fingers fall from the headstone. Blue eyes empty, and pained- it wasn’t fair. 

Feeling the sting of tears behind his eyelids once more, he pressed his sleeve to them, and tried to pressure it away. He was tired of crying. Nothing was bringing his mother back. There was nothing he could do. 

Hearing a small rustling above him, his head shot up, to be met with a small sparrow. It’s tiny head cocked as if asking a question.

Mike tried to shoo the bird away but it wouldn’t budge. The small creature just looking at the crying man in wonder.

After awhile Mike stopped crying, looking at the creature, his own eyes puffy and red from so much sorrow. Mike sighed, looking up again at the small bird, “What do you want?”

Shaking it’s tiny body, the creature hopped down from the pedestal it rested upon, and it was only then, that he noticed the creature held something in its beak. A small bundle of yellow Yarrow flowers. How’d he not see it before…?

As the sparrow grew close, it perched itself upon his hand, before delicately resting the small bundle of flowers in his palm. 

Mike’s eyes widened, “Mom… loved flowers… how’d you know that little guy?”

The bird shook itself off in his hand, glancing up with soft eyes before flittering away.

Mike nodded solemnly, looking down at the bundle in his hand, “Yarrows… a flower for eternal love- and yellow meaning happiness… they were mom’s favorites…”

For the first time in what felt like months, Mike truly and genuinely smiled as he glanced up at the sky, “Thanks mom… I love you too, take care,”


End file.
